


A problem shared

by kiwialicat



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Captain Fleming and his keeper, M/M, Old School Black Caps, smut smut all the smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 04:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwialicat/pseuds/kiwialicat
Summary: Without a word he takes Stephen’s hand and moves it to the small strip of skin joining the top of his jeans with the bottom of his t-shirt.“I mean you can touch me…wherever you want to…”Brendon helps make his Captain feel better.





	A problem shared

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, posting more of the old old stuff. More unashamed, slightly (okay more than slightly) cringey smut.

Stephen’s eyes run over the screen without taking anything in.  He realizes the only thing he’s actually read from the glowing display of his laptop in the last half hour is the time.  He looks at it now as it ticks over from 12:13 to 12:14am.  The game is long over, but he’s still sitting here wondering just what went so badly wrong.

 

He fixes one of his typically regretful yet thoughtful faces into place and watches the screen saver kick in just as he hears a soft knock at his hotel room door.

 

He watches the door for a few seconds.  It takes that long to realize he’s not expecting anyone in particular at this time of night, but he’s not going to tell them to go away, because well, that’s not what he does.  He’s available for everyone and anyone at any time, afterall.

 

“Yeah?”

 

He should probably be a bit more polite, or maybe even get up and answer the door, but he thinks that maybe he’s allowed to be a little less attentive right at the minute.  It’s been a long day, and it could well turn out to be a long night at this rate.  The coffee he had half an hour ago is still buzzing through his system, and he has more things than he can possibly process at once, racing through his mind.

 

“It’s just Brendon.  Can I come in?”

 

The words are a little muffled, but he has no trouble recognizing the voice of his team mate, and a picture even forms of him standing there, alone in the hotel corridor.

 

“Come in…it’s open.”

 

Stephen swivels his body slightly in the chair he’s been sitting in for the last couple of hours and watches his wicket keeper’s face and body appear around his hotel room door.

 

They give eachother that small smile and nod of acknowledgement that seems to go with being a male in casual acquaintance with another male.

 

That thought makes Stephen’s brow knit up briefly.  Brendon is something of a dichotomy.  It’s really too late to think about that.  He’s surprised he’s even throwing around such big words in his mind, so he lets himself think about slightly more primitive things as his eyes glance, probably a little too obviously, across the arms and torso of Brendon’s compact form.

 

“I um, brought back those books I borrowed.”

 

Stephen’s eyebrow rises.  He doesn’t really realize he’s giving Brendon such an inquiring look until he spots the expression on his face.  It’s a little bit of deer caught in the headlights and a little of something else he can’t put his finger on.

 

“Books?  Kinda late to be returning books, but yeah, thanks.”

 

Stephen offers a small, reassuring smile and has it, in part, returned.

 

Brendon cocks his head and quirks his eyebrow, a look as familiar as the handle of a cricket bat to the New Zealand Captain, and it fills him with a curious feeling.  There’s that two-sided thing going on again.  The man before him is quiet, in his way, but at the same time the type of presence that commands attention; and, Stephen thinks, seeks it, no matter how subtly he goes about it.

 

“Yeah well, I guess I needed some excuse to come by and see you.”  Brendon throws the books, a couple of autobiographies Stephen had bought with him and not had a chance to get anywhere near, onto the coffee table and digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He stands and looks around; taking in the rest of the room as if he’s never seen it before and he’s settling himself in for a long stay.

 

“You did?”

 

Brendon shrugs and slides his fingers out of his pocket to examine the nails on his right hand.  A small smile plays at his lips briefly as he looks up suddenly, catching Stephen a little off guard.

 

“Hmm…I thought you’d be needing some help.”

 

“Help?”

 

Brendon nods, knowing he’s on the verge of having Stephen right where he wants him.  He wastes no time in crossing the room and standing in front of his chair.  His eyes flick over the screen of his Captain’s laptop briefly before he reaches out and closes it.  The click it makes when it shuts almost makes Stephen twitch in surprise, so little sound is now in the room.

 

Brendon nods, and Stephen’s skin prickles. 

 

“Help, you know, with your problem.”

 

Stephen’s eyes won’t still, and he eventually lets them linger on the ink carved into Brendon’s arm.  He wonders how it felt when it was put there.  Did Brendon make a pained expression? Did he make a noise?  And oh, did Brendon just say something?

 

“Do you want to touch it?”

 

Both men’s eyes meet in a spilt second and stay locked together.  Stephen really doesn’t like it when he gives himself away that easily, but God yes, he wants to run his fingers over the skin and see how it feels.  He wants…well, it’s best he doesn’t think anything else about what he wants unless his eyes somehow give that away too.

 

“Go on then…”

 

It’s not at all off putting that Brendon’s voice is barely above a whisper, or that he’s stepped even closer and Stephen can feel the body heat coming off him in waves and splashing against his own hyper sensitive skin.

 

This should seem strange.  There’s no doubt that it is, but Stephen doesn’t feel at all wrong in reaching his hand up and letting his fingertips graze Brendon’s ink stained arm.

 

It’s a light, tentative brush of skin on skin and it makes Brendon just want to grab the other man’s wrist and put his hands on him, all over him, but he doesn’t.  He does, however bite his lip; hard. 

 

It’s been a longer wait than he thought he could possibly stand.  He’s been waiting for a time when he thinks his Captain will give him what he wants.  It’s not that he’s chosen a day when Stephen’s at his most weak or vulnerable, it’s just that right now, in the middle of the night, with so much on his mind and so much tension from the day still rampaging through his system; he figures that this is more a case of giving him what he _needs_.  And besides, he’s in no way immune to how Stephen looks at him. He hasn’t read any of his quick sweeping glances the wrong way, and he’s more than happy in the knowledge that what he wants is what they both want and he smiles as those tentative fingers return and travel slowly over his heated skin.

 

“It’s okay, you can touch me.”

 

Stephen looks at Brendon, and understands exactly what he means by those simple words. 

 

He’s not just saying that Stephen can run his fingers clinically over his bicep and nod and smile and agree that yes, his skin feels like skin, and there’s no big deal really, before turning back to his laptop and bidding him goodnight.  No, Brendon wants Stephen’s hands on him.  Stephen sucks in a breath and thinks about all the times he’s watched those strong muscled arms, glistening with the perspiration of exercise and thought about how they’d feel with his fingers curled round them in an entirely context.

 

Brendon simply nods, realizing that time has effectively stood still, and that maybe he hasn’t quite made himself clear enough.

 

Without a word he takes Stephen’s hand and moves it to the small strip of skin joining the top of his jeans with the bottom of his t-shirt.   

 

“I mean you can touch me…wherever you want to.”

 

There’s a lump growing in Stephen’s throat and he knows he needs to swallow.  He also knows that that won’t be missed by the man standing in front of him and he wants to maintain some semblance of control, afterall, he’s the older, in theory, more experienced of the two of them.

 

Stephen’s gaze drops to his fingertips, which rest in an uncertain position on the warm skin of Brendon’s stomach.  Slowly, he moves them a little, sliding them upwards, and feeling the soft cotton of the other man’s shirt brush against his hand.  His eyes find Brendon’s face, and for the first time, he sees it. Brendon’s eyes are half closed and as Stephen lets his fingers slide across the tight stomach muscles, more confident now, it registers that he has just as much power at this moment, maybe even more, than the other man.  

 

Suddenly Brendon’s shirt is lifted up and over his head, and the nicely formed chest and stomach that Stephen’s been thinking about a few too many more nights than he’s willing to admit, is right there, ready for his fingers and his eyes to drink in.

 

Feeling slightly more assured he stares up at Brendon, as his fingers move up his torso, checking for any reaction, and pleased with himself as soon as he sees the involuntary sucking of his lip into his mouth and feels the slight tremor beneath his fingertips.

 

It’s with no small sense of wonder that Stephen returns to running his hand, eventually joined by a second, slowly up the chest of the other man, feeling the small quivers of reaction as he goes and pausing as he reaches his nipples, now hard and erect and begging for his touch.

 

“Fuck…”

 

Brendon’s eyes are on his and he’s breathing harder than standing still in a hotel room should require.

 

“You okay?” 

 

Brendon breathes, in and out, letting his Captain’s fingers burn into his skin as he thinks about pushing him onto the floor and…well maybe it would be better to keep him in the chair for what he’s planning.

 

Brendon nods and manages a lazy smile.  His fingers are around one of Stephen’s wrists again and he’s dragging his fingertips across one of his hard sensitive nipples and letting a hiss of air pass his lips at the bolt of electricity the touch sends through his body.

 

His eyes eventually open and he lets his hand drop, willing Stephen to continue what he helped him start.  He’s not disappointed as a second hand runs up his chest.

 

He barely realizes he’s doing it, but Brendon’s fingers are on his stomach, rubbing a little, and sliding south.  He was hard the second Stephen touched his arm.  He’s so turned on that he hopes his Captain doesn’t suddenly find his voice.  Because it’s the voice… _that_ voice that he falls asleep at night listening to in his head; hot and hard and frustrated and imagining how it would sound against his damp naked skin in the middle of the night.

 

His hand is across the top of his jeans and settling on the bulge at his groin when he finally makes his eyes meet Stephen’s.

 

Stephen wants to look, but he’s still not all the way to feeling uninhibited yet.  It’s crazy, he knows.  There is nothing about what Brendon’s doing that he doesn’t want to be happening right in front of him, and the fact that he’s just slid his hand over his undeniably hard cock barely centimeters from where he’s sitting, should have him thanking some sort of God, but still…

 

The groan of pleasure, for that’s undeniably what it is, fills the room like a fog horn when Brendon lets it out.  He doesn’t mind that he’s touching himself in front of someone who’s still fully clothed, or that they’ve barely done anything to get him this worked up.  He knows well enough that he’ll get exactly what he wants, and it’s the anticipation of that, and the thought of doing it with this person, for the first time, that has him pulling his hand away and breathing hard against Stephen’s ear as he leans down to speak to him.

 

Stephen feels the breath ghost against his ear and resists the urge to squirm in his seat.  He knows the words, before he even hears them, will make his cock press even harder at the constricting fabric of his pants, but he’s in no way prepared for how they affect the rest of his body when they’re delivered in that low assured tone.

 

“I’m going to sit down on your lap and let you put your cock so far up my arse I can’t breathe, and then I’m going to let you talk to me, about how it feels, but not until you’re inside me.”

 

Stephen lets his mouth drop open, partly to let out the sound trapped in his throat and partly to tell Brendon that that’s pretty bloody fine by him, but there are fingers over his lips and a face hovers close to his; large dark pupils staring back at him, as he’s instantly silenced.

 

“No…not until you’re inside me…I don’t want to come before then.”

 

Stephen swallows and watches Brendon slowly take his hand away and place it over the button on his jeans.

 

He’s not really aware that Brendon’s other hand has gone into the back pocket of his jeans until something small and cold lands in his lap.

 

He looks down at the small object before glancing back up at the man who’s just casually tossed it at him.

 

“Judging by the fucking big bulge on your pants, we’re going to be needing that.”

 

Brendon’s fingers work at his jeans while all Stephen can manage to do is stay upright in his chair.

 

As he watches the zip slide slowly downwards with wide eyes, he hears a small smirk escape Brendon’s mischievous lips.

 

“You could help out, you know. I’d quite like it if you _helped_ me get into your pants.  I figure pretty soon I’ll be doing a lot of the work.”

 

And this is that other side, Stephen thinks.  The side of Brendon that is confident, knows what it wants, and has absolutely no problem taking it.

 

He’d almost feel like he’s being used, if he didn’t want exactly what Brendon had just told him he was going to do.

 

Stephen’s fingers somehow find the top of his shirt, and manage to get several of his suddenly small and slippery buttons undone before he gives up and yanks the whole thing up and over his head.  He’s not really prepared for Brendon’s eyes on him.  He’s never really thought that his body was anything anyone else would look at in _that way_ , but then, he’s never made anyone hard just from touching their arm before either, and his skin prickles with heat once more as large admiring eyes drift over his body.

 

Fingers leave Brendon’s jeans which hang low on his hips, and ghost down Stephen’s chest as a low hum of approval slips between his lips.

 

“Mmmm…fuck, look at you…” there’s a pause before Brendon adds, “better than all the times I’ve imagined you.”

 

Stephen’s glad he’s not allowed to speak.  He has no idea what he’d say to that.  He knows his admiration of the other man might not have gone unnoticed, but he hadn’t a clue in the world that Brendon had been doing exactly the same thing.

 

 Stephen’s swallowing hard now, and he doesn’t care at all how obvious it is. His eyes are on the tender pale skin of Brendon’s hips at he works his jeans and boxers down in one go, allowing his cock to spring free, and making him suck in an audible breath as the material drags over his erection.

 

“Please…touch me…”

 

Stephen flicks his eyes from Brendon’s face back to his hand now sliding its way downward across his stomach            . 

 

He lets his hand lift and watches in awe as his fingers curl slowly around Brendon’s cock.

 

“Oh…oh fuck…”

 

Their eyes meet and Stephen realizes that Brendon is right about how turned on he is.  He lets his cock rest hard and heavy in his hand before tightening his grip and moving his hand up and down Brendon’s length, never letting his eyes leave the other man’s.

 

“Shit, I think you’d better stop that…but fuck…I really don’t want you to.”

 

Before Stephen registers what Brendon has just gasped out in a harsh whisper, a quiet whimper of pleasure drifts across him and he feels his hand being pulled gently away from its firm grip on Brendon’s cock.

 

Brendon’s stepping out of his pants and sliding into Stephen’s lap in no time at all; his clothes shed seemingly without a second thought and his mouth so close to Stephen’s that he almost feels the moisture from his breath wetting his lips.

 

Brendon smiles and tilts his head a little, regarding his Captain carefully, with almost an expression of amusement painting his quirked lips.

 

Just as Stephen thinks he’s going to murmur something soft and devastating against his cheek, Brendon’s tongue is between his lips; its wet warmth sliding along his bottom lip before it slides into his mouth and a hand is pulling his head hard forward, crushing their mouths together as if he’s trying to seal them permanently like that.  Stephen tastes the smoky flavour of a recent cigarette in the other man’s mouth, and it crosses his mind that perhaps Brendon needed a little more courage to come here than he’s showing.

 

Somehow Stephen’s arms are wrapped around Brendon’s smaller frame and his hands are sliding across his warm, lightly perspiring skin, before he can even think about how incredibly good it feels to be pressed against him.

 

Both men are pressed together and exploring eachother’s mouths for mere seconds as Brendon decides he really can’t do this for much longer without embarrassing himself, and his hand is pushing between their bodies and fumbling quickly the top of Stephen’s pants.

 

Fingers are working at his belt, and his moan is swallowed by the talented mouth pressed against his as they stray, not accidentally he figures, to where his cock is straining for release. 

 

Stephen feels the grin curl up against his lips as Brendon elicits just the reaction he’s searching for before resuming his attack on the other man’s pants. 

 

He somehow gets the button undone and has the zip down before Stephen registers that the incredibly good feeling racing through his body is the sensation caused by Brendon’s firm massaging hand, rubbing at his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers.  He needs that hand on him, and it doesn’t take long before he gets what he needs as it’s tugging at the elastic of his boxers and sliding inside to brush lightly, almost teasingly, at his aching cock.

 

He wants to scream.  He wants to make some sort of noise to release that feeling welling up in his body.  Somehow Brendon’s insistent words and possibly also the tongue thrusting hard into his mouth keep Stephen quiet as those searching, torturous fingers wrap around his cock.

 

Brendon reluctantly slides his tongue out of Stephen’s mouth and pulls back slightly to stare at him as his hand moves rhythmically up and down his cock, straining between their bodies.

 

Stephen’s eyes look almost wild.  They’re large and dark and it’s nearly like he wants to lean forward and take a bite out of Brendon.

 

Brendon smiles; he’s leaning in again and mumbling words against Stephen’s lips that take a little more concentration to decipher than Stephen can easily summon.

 

“I’m going to turnaround now and I want you to use the lube to get me ready.”  Brendon studies Stephen, trying to see if his words are sinking in before going on, “then you’re going to put your cock inside me.”

 

Stephen knows his mouth is dropping open slightly, but he’s powerless to stop the look forming on his face.  Brendon favours him with a small smile before somehow managing to retrieve the small tube of lube he’d flung at him before, and sliding it into one of Stephen’s hands.

 

Stephen watches as Brendon stands slowly.  His eyes travel over his lean form as he turns unhurriedly in front of him, obviously completely aware of the show he’s putting on and how the other man is glued to every inch of him as he shows off the body he’s developed nicely over the years he’s been playing professional sport.

 

As soon as Brendon’s back is turned to him, Stephen see his hands lift and undoubtedly settle on his stomach, his head tilting back a little as he lets one slide lower.  Stephen can’t help but let out a small noise, managing only to mouth the profanity that hovers on the tip of his tongue as he admires the perfect arse in front of him and thinks about how it will look pressed hard into his lap.

 

His hands are quickly on Brendon’s hips and guiding him down into place on his lap, before he runs one of them, almost tenderly down the warm smooth skin of his back.

 

Brendon parts his legs and leans forward a little, exposing the entrance to his body and grasping his cock lightly in his hand.  Stephen’s hand works down and over Brendon’s firm arse, feeling the slight quiver beneath his fingers as he goes.

 

His fingers press themselves between Brendon’s arse cheeks, running the tips once lightly over the puckered entrance to his body.  Stephen sucks in a harsh breath as he feels Brendon’s muscles contract against his touch.  He quickly pulls his finger away and works clumsily at the small tube, before his lubricated fingers meet the warmth of Brendon’s smooth arse again and he’s tracing the slick liquid up and down the parting between his cheeks.  Brendon’s mouth hangs open and his eyes are pinched tightly shut as a solid strong finger presses against his opening, willing the firm ring of muscle beneath it to yield. 

 

Stephen’s eyes run over Brendon’s back and he listens carefully for the sound of his harsh breathing as he presses his hand forward and feels the tight passage at his fingertip part for him as his finger slides slowly but steadily into the other man’s body.

 

“Oh Jesus…”

 

The exclamation drops awkwardly from Brendon’s lips as he thinks it’s been far too long.  He knows he’s forgotten how good this can feel, and as Stephen’s finger works deeper into his body he can’t help but tilt his hips and press back a little, willing more of the other man inside him.  Stephen feels the movement against him, and this other hand finds Brendon’s hip as he begins to work his finger in and out in a smooth rhythm, all the while thinking about the hot pressure surrounding him and how he really wants to get on with things.

 

Brendon’s hips are rocking a little more firmly against him now, as Stephen easily slides a second finger into his arse alongside the first.  It feel incredibly good, and although he feels the muscles stretching and accommodating him, it’s still so incredibly tight that he wonders whether what he’s about to do might hurt the other man.  The thought in his mind, he lets his fingers still as he leans forward and presses his lips to Brendon’s back; breaking the rule that’s been put in place.

 

“Are you sure about this?  I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Brendon nods his head and tries to twist his neck to look, even partially, at the man behind him.

 

“Christ Steve…you won’t hurt me.  Just please…fuck me…”

 

The strained words are all Stephen needs to hear as his fingers are sliding quickly out of Brendon’s body and his cock, hard and prominent, is carefully coated in the same lube that’s coating Brendon’s insides.

 

His hand slides from Brendon’s waist down to his hip, grasping it firmly as he takes the base of his cock in his other hand and guides Brendon up slightly so he can slide the tip between the firm pale cheeks of his arse.

 

Stephen doesn’t make a sound.  He has no idea how he manages to stay quiet when he has his cock pressed against that wonderful elastic opening and the warm writhing body in front of him is pressing back against him, willing him to push past the pliable muscle and sink deep inside Brendon.

 

Brendon feels like he’s being teased.  He can feel the thick wet head of Stephen’s cock against his hole and the hand at his hip holding him in place, just above Stephen’s lap.  It takes one final tilt of his hips to make his mouth go wide as he feels the large head push through his opening and press against his slick walls, filling him with an exquisite sensation of pressure as he pushes his body down hard and sinks all the way onto Stephen’s lap.

 

Stephen grits his teeth and lets out a strangled groan. Surely this has never felt quite so fucking good.  Brendon is nestled, for want of a better word, in his lap. Pressed down against him hard so that they are joined seamlessly and Stephen is as far inside him as he can go.  He remembers he’s supposed to talk now, but there’s nothing to say that will adequately express just how incredible the insides of Brendon’s body feel around his cock.  He can feel the other man breathing hard and he leans forward a little, letting his hand find its way around Brendon’s waist and covering his hand on his cock.

 

Brendon looks down at the large hand encircling his and moans softly.  He knows he wants to move, but at the same time, he feels so damn good with Stephen buried inside him that he’s happy to let his arse fit around his cock like this a little longer.

 

Brendon lifts his head up slowly, staring at the inside of his eyelids he whispers huskily, “talk to me…I want you to tell me exactly how this feels.  How does it feel to be inside me?”

 

Stephen’s mouth is dry and he’s about to mumble out something profane when suddenly Brendon begins to rock, gently at first, back and forth on his lap.

 

The motion sends a bolt of electricity through Stephen’s veins as Brendon’s arse moves across his cock, gripping at it and sucking it deeper in with every firm push backwards against him.

 

“Fuck…help me…I want to hear you…”

 

Stephen wets his dry lips and grips Brendon’s cock a little more firmly, the fingers on his other hand curving into Brendon’s hip and giving him purchase as he pulls the man on his lap hard back against him before trying to give him the other thing he wants.

 

“Shit…you…you feel amazing…”

 

Brendon doesn’t really care what Stephen says to him.  He could be reading him the English football results and it would still have the same devastating effect on his body.  He knows that Stephen could make him hard, maybe even make him come, just with words alone, so he’s not at all surprised to feel the tingling sensation growing in his groin with every mumbled, almost nervous word.

 

Stephen guides Brendon in a steady rhythm against him as he gyrates up and down in his lap.

 

He watches in wonder as his cock moves in and out of Brendon’s body; his thick length stretching his opening and sliding across his hot elastic walls as his movements in Stephen’s lap increase in pace and he fucks himself harder on his cock.

 

“God Brendon…I had no idea…fuck…”

 

Brendon’s not exactly sure what Stephen has had no idea about, he figures later would be a good time to ask, as words aren’t exactly easy to come by right now.  He’s not really sure how Stephen’s even managing to do what he asked him to do.  Every word is like another deliciously firm stroke of his aching cock and he’s not going to last nearly as long as he would like.

 

“Christ I…I’m going to come…”

 

In spite of everything, Brendon has to smile at the words as his head goes back and he croaks out a hoarse sounding “that’s kinda the point.”

 

Brendon feels the fingers wrapped around his cock pass across the leaking tip and as he watches the strong hand resume pumping him hard, it’s enough.  His whole body is on fire with the sensations coursing through it, and he’s suddenly there, ready to explode.  He feels every muscle in his body strain against his skin as he arches his back and presses his arse back hard one final time, feeling Stephen’s cock plunge deep inside him as his muscles grip at it and his gravelly groan accompanies the explosion of his come from his cock; the hot white ribbons falling across his and Stephen’s hand.

 

Stephen feels the change in the body in front of him and knows it will take him over the edge.  He watches the smooth plain of Brendon’s shoulders as his muscles stand out in stark relief; everything in the other man is stimulated to the very limit.  He feels the pressure increase suddenly around his cock.  The already perfect haven of Brendon’s body now grows impossibly tighter, and hotter, and sucking him in like it never wants to let go.

 

He can’t keep his eyes open much longer, and can only manage one last look down at the place where their bodies join as Brendon is taking as much of Stephen’s cock inside him as he possibly can.  The sight of this is enough as is the warm wet liquid covering his hand.  His eyes slide shut as his head goes back and his cock shoots his cum deep inside Brendon’s body.  

 

He lets out a loud gasp of relief and the other man’s name is breathed out in a low rough voice as the last of his cum is milked from his cock by Brendon’s insides.

 

“Brendon…”

 

There is nothing but the sound of quick shallow breaths being sucked into oxygen deprived lungs as Brendon lets his body relax back against Stephen’s.  He is totally spent and he can’t recall feeling quite this good in his entire life.

 

Stephen’s body is limp and damp and completely comfortable with Brendon sitting on his lap.  He pulls him back gently and wraps an arm around his stomach, letting his head fall back against his shoulder before kissing this cheek and grinning a little.

 

“Not sure I really talked enough…did I?”

 

Brendon grins too, his breathing now a little more under control.

 

“Yeah well, I guess you’re not used to other people telling _you_ what to do for a change.”

 

He lets his head twist around on his neck, an awkward position, but he wants to see the other man.

 

Their eyes meet briefly before they are unable to help themselves and lips and tongues meet almost violently.

 

Brendon’s eventually smiling against Stephen’s lips, minutes later, and letting a hand work into his hair.

 

“Glad I could help.”

 

Stephen just stares back for a few seconds, utterly amused and more than a little surprised at the same time.

 

“You know…next time I need some help, I’ll know just where to come.”

 

Both men let their wide grins dissolve into another deep kiss; the day behind them forgotten; replaced by thoughts of nothing but the night ahead.  

 

END


End file.
